A College Girl Claimed My Son Got Her Pregnant and Demanded $30K, The Truth Shocked Us
With that, she hung up the phone almost as soon as she had finished speaking.
“Owner, are you all right?”
“There’s no problem; it’s just a prank call.”
One of my employees, Mr. Murphy, voiced his concern, so I reassured him like that. There’s no way she has any proof, so I don’t expect she’ll call back again. But I have an uneasy feeling that she might barge in and cause a scene at the restaurant.
In the evening, while preparing for dinner, I had completely forgotten about the phone call. Mr. Murphy ran up to me holding a manila envelope in his hand with his face as pale as a ghost.
“What’s the matter?”
“It’s not like you to run in the restaurant.”
“Owner, this came.”
He handed me what was a letter. Ms. Melissa Brown, I was assaulted and impregnated by your son. Please transfer thirty thousand dollars as alimony.
Written below were the bank transfer details and the recipient’s name was Karen Williams. Mr. Murphy was pale and disturbed because he was the first to see the contents of the unsealed and unsigned letter.
“Calm down.”
“But, but you know my son, right?”
Hearing this, he seemed relieved. There was something else in the envelope. I pulled it out and it was a pregnancy test.
“What’s that?”
This commotion attracted the other employees, and all of them seemed taken aback.
“Could it really be the owner’s son?”
Some employees gave me a contemptuous look, but they were quickly convinced when I explained. I put away the things that had been sent on my desk and returned to my usual work.
A few days passed without transferring any money, but during this time, it was an unsettling incident.
“Owner, this came again.”
Mr. Murphy came with the manila envelope in his hand and looking fed up.
“I see. Check the contents and put it away in the usual place.”
Recently, these harassing letters had been dropped in the restaurant’s mailbox many times a day.
“Are you planning to run?”
“Pay up.”
“The owner is a parent of a criminal.”
“Her son got a college girl pregnant and didn’t even apologize.”
“The owner of this restaurant is a heartless and cruel woman with no sincerity.”
“Irresponsible, overprotective, toxic parent.”
“It’s your fault your son became like that. Take responsibility.”
“I’ll make sure no customers come to this restaurant.”
“It’s for the good of the world, for the good of the people.”
I wonder what would make customers stop coming to a restaurant. Like those restaurants where they put that greasy, black, and disgusting thing in the food? I wouldn’t go there again, that’s for sure.
The content escalates progressively and the last part is practically a threat. Thankfully, no claims have been made that anything is actually in our food, but the constant anxiety that we might be set up is exhausting.
Slanderous Reviews and a Confrontation at the Counter
Amid all this, something caught my attention. Well, again, a vacant seat increased at lunch. The number of customers was gradually, just gradually, decreasing.
“Yes, it’s unusual today; we even had two tables empty.”
My thoughts went out to the poor ingredients waiting to be prepared in the kitchen.
“Owner!”
I looked up at Mr. Murphy’s call to see him heading my way with his laptop.
“Look at this review site.”
On the laptop screen, the latest reviews were filled with harsh, slanderous comments. Bad customer service, they don’t listen to the customers, especially the owner who seems to be getting full of herself after appearing on TV and in magazines. The food is getting worse; the soup taste was way more plain than the last time I visited.
I saw an employee drop a piece of meat before grilling and sneak it back. Every single day poor reviews were posted, causing our star rating to plummet. I realized that I was shaking with anger.
It’s unacceptable. Why should this restaurant, which we’ve worked so hard to build with the intention of pleasing our customers, be wounded by such baseless accusations?
“Are the preparations progressing?”
An unfamiliarly low and cold voice involuntarily slipped from my mouth.
“Yes, they’re almost completed.”
Upon hearing Mr. Murphy’s response, I couldn’t help but smirk. It’s been a week since we discovered the slanderous comments on the review site. Since then, the number of customers has continued to dwindle.
When I stepped out into the dining area, Mr. Anderson, a regular, was sitting at the counter next to a young woman.
“Mr. Anderson, thank you as always.”
“It’s tough for you lately, Melissa.”
When I greeted him, Mr. Anderson offered me words of consolation.
“Well, this job is my lifeline.”
I smiled and replied. Mr. Anderson shook his head sympathetically.
“Then you’re strong, especially considering your son’s predicament, but don’t lose hope.”
“I’m on your side, Melissa. We’ll support your son as he atones for his actions.”
“What?”
I was taken aback and couldn’t understand what he was talking about.
“Well, I noticed this place is quieter than usual, so I was wondering what happened.”
“Then this young lady here kindly showed me a webpage about this restaurant.”
With that, he gestured towards the pretty woman in her early twenties sitting next to him.
“I really feel for you.”
“I love this place, so I thought I’d come here more often to help out in any way I can.”
Come to think of it, I recalled seeing this girl in the restaurant quite frequently recently.
“Excuse me, but what’s written here is a misunderstanding.”
“The regulars here were wondering why the place has been so empty recently, so I explained it to them.”
“What?”
I doubted my own ears and trying to make sense of what she was saying.
“I mean, isn’t it sad not to know the truth?”
“Besides, I thought the owner would be happy to know that people like me and Mr. Anderson still come to this place.”
“You’ve been spreading online rumors, which we’re not even sure of, to our patrons?”
I unintentionally raised my voice, forgetting all about formality.
